


Your Eyes Can't Lie to Me

by HighLady57



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter - Next Gen
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, F/M, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, Merlin - Freeform, Multi, Mystery, New Dark Rising, Original Fiction, Original Mythology, Slow Romance, The Lady of the Lake - Freeform, Werewolves, sorry j.k. rowling, this is not compliant with HP and the Cursed Child because that book was TRASH
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-13 01:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighLady57/pseuds/HighLady57
Summary: Rose Weasley is kidnapped from Hogwarts during her 6th year, and is missing for four months, before she is found with horrible wounds in London. Rushed to St. Mungos, it is revealed that Rose remembers nothing of who she is, or what happened to her. But two weeks later, this terrible news is replaced with an even worse one an affliction without a cure. Now Rose has to finish her final year at Hogwarts, keeping her horrible condition a secret from everyone. She is miraculously still given Head Girl and finds out Scorpius Malfoy - the one boy she cannot understand, or stand at all - is Head Boy. And... he's a bit too perceptive for her liking. Can Rose work to remember what happened after she was taken, as the news of more and more people going missing circulates the Wizarding world, while finding a way to keep her secret from everyone? If only the eyes could lie...





	1. Title and Disclaimer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> J.K. Rowling's lawyers terrify me, so that is why this is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just skip past this honestly

DISCLAIMER

This story was written merely for the entertainment of the author and her readers. No money was made writing this, nor does the author claim credit for established characters created by J.K. Rowling.

Any other items - some spells, magical items, and people - are original, created from the author's mind for plot purposes. It should be clear what items were created by Ms. Rowling and which were created by the author of this FanFiction.

If it is not, please contact the author via Private Messaging.

Thank You.

Enjoy!

P.S. this fic was originally on FanFiction.net, and Wattpad, and it is being moved here, by ME. THE AUTHOR. Thanks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no hard feelings


	2. prologue: two personalities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST FYI: the rating will most likely be upped to "Mature" much farther on in the story, both for violence and sexual content reasons. I will warn you all ahead of time, and for my readers who don't like that stuff, I will bracket the sexual stuff so you can skip past it.

PROLOGUE: two personalities

* * *

 “ _The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed."_  
_\- Jung_

* * *

  **(Sunday, May 25th, 2024 - 11:34am) - ROSE**

* * *

 

I do not understand boys...I mused, frowning slightly.

"Especially a boy named Scorpius Malfoy." Muttering to myself, I stroked the soft brown feathers of my spectacled owl, Erimentha, who was snoozing on her perch in the Owlry.

"He's just so - ugh!" I growled. My fingers became tense, causing Eri to hoot balefully at me. Shrugging off my hand and ruffling her feathers reproachfully, I saw I'd been a bit louder than I realized. A few of the nearby owls opened their eyes and protested at me as well, annoyance in their stares.

"Sorry," I said, softer this time, "I always forget you guys are nocturnal."

Sighing, I gave Eri one last pat. I told her I hoped she'd forgive me for upsetting her sleep again, and left the tower.

Once I made it safely down the stone steps, my mind once again returned to what I had been ranting about before: how much I did not understand the whims of one Scorpius Malfoy.

To put it simply - and rather nicely I might add - he is an enigma. He is the first Malfoy not to be Sorted into Slytherin in... well... I don't think the Malfoy's ever have been Sorted anywhere else! Let alone their rival House of Gryffindor.

And during the first week of starting at Hogwarts... the surprises just seemed to keep on coming.

He was nothing like my father implied on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Malfoy = evil incarnate. He showed up to every lesson on time and caused no mischief. On the first day in Transfiguration - our first lesson, incidentally - with Professor Alice Roberston - who had taken over the post from Professor McGonagall when she became Headmistress - we were (as expected) attempting to turn a match into a needle. I expected it came to nobody's surprise that I was completely successful; I Transfigured three matches by the end of the lesson. I was Hermione Granger's daughter after all.

The surprise was that Scorpius had Transfigured three whole matches as well. Much to my annoyance (and, I will not lie. I was rather impressed).

It was this small thing that was the cause of two very different effects: he and I almost instantly engaged in an intense academic rivalry, and... he became Albus Potter's other best friend.

"Any bloke who can show up Rosie on the first lesson is a bloke I want as my best mate," he said, stopping Scorpius outside the classroom.

"He did not show me up!" I had angrily protested. "We Transfigured exactly the same number of matches, thank you very much!"

Al had just chuckled at my irritation and retorted,

"Yeah, but I bet he did it quicker. Right, Scorpius?"

Albus Potter - that tosser!

Scorpius had merely shrugged. Our rivalry wasn't to the bickering and boasting stage yet. That came about in full swing around the start of October, second year. The insults would start in earnest at the very beginning of our fourth year.

And that's when the Malfoy Smirk made its first debut as well. This event caused a snowball effect throughout the female population of Hogwarts - excluding myself of course - who now suddenly seemed to think he was 'the fittest!' and continually annoyed me by asking if I could 'introduce us?'

"Are you mad? I'd rather give you the advice to avoid the tosser! He's a right git!"

"Yeah, right! He's bloody fantastic! Come on Rose, you're friends with him already, help a gal out?"

That last sentence they always seemed to say never failed to send me spluttering in horror.

"We are not friends! He's a cheeky twat who is beyond annoyingly moronic and there is no way I could be bothered to 'introduce' you! Merlin!" and then, I'd angrily stomp away, practically fuming at the ears.

Yup... I was rather shirty and bad-mouthed that term. Thank Merlin I grew out of it by the end of the year before I went home (my best friend was a large influence on this language change. But who could blame either of us! All the females had gone bonkers!)

Things were never really the same between me and Al after he became friends with Scorpius. Apparently, I was too much of a dork at eleven - like he and Scorpius weren’t! - to hang out with.

I didn't really take it to heart, though. Probably because I met Adela.

There were, including myself, a total of five Gryffindor girls in our year: a ditzy, vindictive and complete slag named Violet Brown (the slag part came into effect full throttle our third year, making her almost exactly like her mother - I would later be told), Lulu Connors (a Violet clone, except her blond hair was most definitely fake - and who lets their eleven year old daughter charm their hair anyway?), my cousin, Dominique Weasley (my Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill's second daughter), and Adela McKinnon.

Dom and I got along quite well, but we had grown up together. She had been more of a tomboy than she was anything like me: a bookish girly-girl. However, don't be fooled by this description. You piss me off enough and I will get as violent and dirty as any boy. Blame the Weasley temper I inherited from my father. Mostly, it was either Al, Scorpius, or Violet Brown who brought out that side of me.

She played rough with James, Albus, my younger brother Hugo, and hers, Louis, Fred and his twin, Roxanne, who was one of the boys as well. They engaged in Quidditch, Exploding Snap tournaments, harassing the gnomes at the Burrow and nicking the prototypes from Uncle George for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes (this always ended badly). Though James, Fred and Roxy had all been a year older than us, Roxy still hung out with Dom while they were both at Hogwarts - especially when they both were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team (Roxy was a Beater with her brother, Fred - it was totally the second generation twin genes at work there; their father was George Weasley - and Dom was a Chaser).

So, while Dominique and I were family, we just didn't have the same interests to hang out all the time.

This is how Adela came to save my sanity (as much as was left after that tosser Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy stole some).

She was like a breath of fresh air after growing up with only my cousins as companions. Sure, the Weasley's and Potters are amazing! But there's only so much you can share - and subsequently deal with - when it's your family. It was refreshing, because Adela was so completely different from them; that was only part of what made her great.

Another part was that she was a Muggleborn.

She didn't know anything about my family, my parents. She didn't treat me like a celebrity. I reveled in it. And when she did find out - nothing changed. She was all impressed and curious, but she understood how much I hated being treated differently, just because of my family. She was the same way, being from an all Muggle family before finding out she was a witch.

We fit completely as best friends. Her snarky and ironic attitude was a perfect complement to my slightly timid and bookish, but still 'know-it-all' in class, personality (I was my mother's daughter, after all).

Her sarcastic take on life was always greatly appreciated on days when I just wanted to tear my red curls right from my head in frustration over Scorpius.

Until I met him, I did not believe there could exist a boy more annoying than Albus. So, yes, I was very, very wrong.

We were in our sixth year now. For some reason, this created a sudden change at the beginning of the year from Scorpius in relation to me.

He wasn't a complete git.

Sure, we still competed over academics, but most of the insults were gone from him. When he'd see me, the greeting would be, "Hey, Rose, did you finish that paper for Professor Longbottom?" instead of the previous favorite of, "Oi, Weasley! Did you let a Niffler brush your hair this morning?" (and I would like to point out my hair is nowhere as bad as my mother's had been! It's curly, but more like large ringlets, and it's red, not brown. I have my father's dark cerulean blue eyes, too).

To which I had instantly replied,

"No, Malfoy - I certainly did not!"

And then realized what he said.

"Wait - did you just ask me if I finished the Herbology homework?" I spluttered incredulously, half-believing I went temporarily bonkers.

"Yeah; I practically went mad trying to find and describe five beneficial uses for hellebore! But I'm sure I got them."

I couldn't find words. It was only when Adela - who was sitting beside me at breakfast (inhaling her eggs and bacon) - elbowed me in the side and muttered,

"Rose, you probably should close your mouth. And you know... answer him?"

"Uh, yeah," I quickly said. "I found seven positive uses, though. I have no idea why you had so much trouble."

He merely rolled his eyes (rolled his eyes!? No snarky comment back about how swallowing my copy of 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi finally paid off?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM!?) and said he'd see me in Herbology that afternoon.

(I profusely thanked her after he left for saving me from further embarrassment. She just demanded I thank her with Chocolate Frogs, not flattery; she gets enough of that pathetic flirting from Albus).

The entire rest of the year seemed to go like that. He was almost nice to me! The academia one-up-ing was always still there, but he just seemed to not... hate me anymore?

So, this is why I doubt I'll ever understand him.

I meandered across the grounds, heading back to the castle. Adela was waiting for me in the Great Hall for us to head out to watch the Quidditch final: Gryffindor versus Slytherin (as it always seems to be). This was James Potter's last year as Captain; Gryffindor had won the cup the past two years, ever since he took over the role. I knew James wanted to go out with a perfect record, so a lot was riding on this match.

James played Chaser with Dominique and an amazing fourth year named Lisa Hawthorne. Fred and Roxy, as I said, were Beaters and Albus was the teams Seeker. Scorpius was our Keeper.

And it goes without saying that James was driving everyone mad. He had been completely certifiable this past week, making Al even more than usual. I knew James would never forgive Al if he didn't catch the Snitch. And Al would never forgive himself either. So, basically the whole family - and by association - all the Gryffindor's, were all twitchy and half-crazy with nerves.

Adela and I had been woken up by Dom at 6 o'clock this morning; she was going stir-crazy, waiting for the match to start at noon. She had driven Adela practically insane by 8am (which says something about how crazy she was acting). I lasted a bit longer, but finally broke at 10am when she wouldn't eat anything, and everyone else was likewise freaking out at the Gryffindor table. So, in order to escape the madness, I said I had to send a letter - which is how I ended up at the Owlry - and made Adela stay to make sure Albus didn't kill himself before the match.

As I had left the Great Hall, Scorpius had followed me just outside.

"Hey, Rose! Wait up!"

I had turned around to find him chasing after me, a weird look on his face.

"What is it Malfoy?" I asked, a little testy myself from all the crazies I had dealt with leading up to this match.

And yes, I still used his surname. He was Scorpius only in my head.

"You're coming to the game, right?" he had asked, wringing his hands in front of him rather nervously.

And that in itself was stranger than him inquiring on my agenda (which he had never done before).

"Of course; weren't you sitting right next to me just now? I told Adela I'd meet her here to walk down to the pitch together," I said.

Here it got stranger still.

He blushed. BLUSHED!

"Ah, right. Sorry," and then, after twisting his fingers together a few more times, as I stood there looking at him like he had grown a third head (the second one was usually his ego), he said, all very fast, "Well, I'll see you there. Bye Rose!" and he quickly retreated back to the Great Hall.

Again. I will say it.

I will never understand Scorpius Malfoy.

While pondering all this, I had made it to the edge Black Lake that led back to the castle with the Forest just a few yards beside. That's when I heard a loud pounding of footsteps rapidly approaching me from behind.

Thinking it was one of my stir-crazy family members coming to harass me some more before the game, I just kept walking, bracing myself for the crazy.

What I got, was a completely different kind of crazy.

Knocked down from behind, I screamed, suddenly terrified. I tried to kick them off but they were so heavy! There were suddenly other loud male voices and rough, calloused hands gripped my legs and arms, and one ripped my wand from my hand where I had just gotten it free.

"You won't need that anymore cupcake," a horrible voice whispered in my ear with a sinister chuckle.

And everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECOND FYI: Sixteen more chapters so far have been written. I will post a new one every weekend by Sunday evening PST. I do not know how long this will be, but I'm not even close into the main plot yet so...


	3. one: serenity, courage, and wisdom

ONE: serenity, courage, and wisdom

* * *

 " _Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."_  
_-_ _Niebuhr_

* * *

_(July 8th, 2024 – 10:41pm) -_   **THIRD PERSON**

* * *

 

Rose Weasley had been missing for almost two months.

The whole of the wizarding world was waiting with barely subdued terror for the news of her death and the rise of another Dark wizard.

Her father, Ronald Weasley, never slept, spending all hours of the day in his office in the Auror Headquarters in the Ministry. He was determined to find his daughter and to make those who took her pay. His wife, Hermione, appeared at the door of his office with their 15 year-old son, Hugo, and their best friend, Harry Potter, and his wife and Ron's sister, Ginny.

Hermione's face was tearstained and stricken, clutching Harry's free arm for support. She seemed unable to stand on her own. Ginny was holding her husband's hand tightly, her face and his weary far beyond their years. Only Hugo stood alone next to his mother, his whole demeanor one of forced strength and resolve.

Ron looked up only briefly at their arrival. Seeing no good news in their faces, he turned back to his desk which was covered with different bits of parchment and quite a few snapped and mangled quills.

Hermione detached herself from Harry's arm and made her way over to her husband.

"Ron," she croaked in a voice raw and terrified with worry, "Ronald, please come back to the Burrow with us.  _Please._ "

His face crumpled, betraying more pain and distress than should be humanly possible. Turning his face slightly to hers, he spoke in a voice broken and weary,

"I c-can't, Hermione. I have to find s-some-t-thing.  _Anything!_  She's my little girl..."

At the last word, Ron broke down completely into anguished sobs. Husband and wife clung to each other, desperately in need of support.

Hugo leaned into his mother, his strong façade finally breaking as he was pulled into the embrace. Ginny broke down, too, hiding her face in Harry's shoulder.

Harry spoke then, his voice low, but determinedly strong.

"We'll find her. No matter what, we'll save Rose from whoever has her."

* * *

  _(July 10th, 2024 - 8:53am)_  -  **THIRD PERSON**

* * *

 

Two days later, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, was sitting in his office, answering a letter to the Prime Minister of Magic in Italy who wanted to know how the search for Rose Weasley has fared recently, offering to send some of his Aurors to help with the effort. Seeing as it had been four months now with nothing,  _not one single clue_ , Kingsley was more than thankful for any extra wizards to help.

Many feared another Dark Rising, one much more terrible and widespread than before. Kingsley would not make the same mistakes of his predecessors by ignoring the problem – confirmed or not; after all, he'd been on the receiving end of those repercussions. Many were lost who should not have been. So many...

Sighing, Kingsley ran a large ringed hand over his face.

It had been a particularly hectic morning, in a particularly insane week. Kingsley normally came in early – before the sun was even up – to answer some of the low-priority post that had been neglected over the past week. He hadn't gotten very far at all in the previous days, seeing as about an hour after sitting down in the chair behind his desk in the Minister's office, his Senior Assistant, Monty Abrams, ran in with a situation needing his immediate attention: on Monday, a young Welsh Green dragon had escaped from the small preservation up north and was ravaging the countryside towns and he needed to approve the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures's damage control plan; on Tuesday, two Trader's – one transporting unprocessed bubotuber pus and the other a cage of young Cornish Pixies – had collided and well... the resulting mess was considerable (the pus got all over the wizards surrounding the two and the pixies caused quite a lot of damage to personal and Ministry property); on Wednesday, the all lifts simultaneously stopped, trapping their occupants in whatever point between floors they were currently at; on Thursday, there was a charm gone wrong in the mail room, causing a good lot of the Interdepartmental paper airplanes to incinerate, causing a lot of wizards to be late, not knowing what they needed to or where they should be.

It had been a frustrating week, to say the least.

Kingsley had been in his office for almost three hours now, and Monty had not rushed in with another emergency; he was beginning to think the chaos of the other mornings would not repeat.

But of course, that would be too easy.

Just as Kingsley was finishing up the letter to the Italian Minster, Monty burst into his office so suddenly, causing him to spray ink blots all over the parchment.

"What could possibly be wrong now, Mr. Abrams!" Kingsley growled, his voice angrier than he intended.

However, it said something about why Monty was there – and certainly Monty himself - that this growl of annoyance from the quite sizable and accomplished wizard behind the desk before him, that he barely blinked. Instead, he continued his barreling route into the office, his purpose falling rapidly from his lips,

"Minister! We just received word from the English Prime Minister of Muggles! He thinks that Miss Weasley has been found!"

Kingsley jumped to his feet, previous annoyance and ruined and blotted parchment completely forgotten. Grabbing his wand from the desktop and pulling on his robe from where it lay on the back of his chair, he rushed after Monty out the door.

They stopped before a painting of a frog-like little man wearing a long silver wig, which hung next to a large roaring fireplace.

"Please alert the Prime Minister of Muggles of my swift and momentary arrival," Kingsley said as Monty threw a handful of green powder into the flames, turning them a brilliant emerald.

The man in the painting nodded and turned his back on him, delivering the message.

Kingsley walked straight into the fire and bellowed,

"Muggle Minister's office!"

When he stepped out of the fireplace mere moments later and into the other Minister's office, he was greeted by the Muggle Minister. He was dressed in a long black overcoat and black fedora, holding a black umbrella in his left hand.

"Minister," they simultaneously greeted each other.

"I am on my way to a city budget meeting," the Muggle Minister began, adjusting his overcoat, "but I received word a few minutes ago from my senior beat officer that a young red-haired woman matching the description of your missing Miss Weasley, was found early this morning badly injured in Regent's Park. She was brought to Western Eye Hospital on Marylebone Road."

The Minster reached in his pocket and handed Kingsley a badge.

"This is the badge for my personal guard and investigators. It will get you through the hospital's security and in to see her. I do not know if this girl is your missing Miss Weasley, but she is not on any of our databases for missing persons."

"Thank you for your prompt news Minister," Kingsley said, pocketing the badge. Then with a nod, he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Five minutes later, now appropriately dressed for Muggle relations, Kingsley made his way to the IC Ward, room 19C. Like the Muggle Minister had said, the badge had gotten him through the hospital's security without a problem. Sometimes it was a relief to not have to use magic for these sort of things.

As he approached the room, a young nurse walked out of it, shuffling some papers on her clipboard. Flashing the badge, Kingsley said,

"Sergeant Shacklebolt, miss. It is a matter of great urgency that I see this woman."

The nurse, looking shocked at the badge Kingsley had shown her, nodded and let him into the room.

"We are not to be disturbed for any reason," Kingsley said. Then, pulling the door closed, Kingsley pulled down the shades and turned the lock on the handle, whispering the spells to seal the room from any intruders or eavesdroppers.

Suddenly, Kingsley found himself afraid to turn around.  _What if it wasn't Rose? What if it was? What then?_

A moment later, he does anyway, and if it wasn't for the sad sight of the girl's body in the bed before him, Kingsley would have sighed in relief. Seeing that Rose wouldn't wake for a good while, Kingsley pulled a small gold disk, emblazoned with the Ministry's crest from his pocket. Engraved around the edges were letters and numbers.

Mentally remarking to himself upon Mrs. Hermione Weasley's cleverness – she had originally come up with these in her 5th Year at Hogwarts! – Kingsley sent a message to his inner circle of Aurors and all of the trusted individuals who owned and knew about these special coins: Cipher Communicators.

And ten minutes later, Rose was being transferred to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

* * *

 ...9:29 am

* * *

 

St. Mungo's was in an absolute uproar.

The news of Rose Weasley being found – alive! – had been kept between only those who possessed a Cipher Communicator and the Head Healers at the hospital. Kingsley wasn't about to let his guard down so easily; so many of his fellow Aurors and members of the Order had met their untimely end that way.

Judging by how few leads – none – on Rose's kidnapping there were, Kingsley had to assume the fact that there might be a mole in the Ministry. But, seeing as no one knew just  _what_  exactly the nature of the threat was, Kingsley didn't know what to tell his men to look for. So, until further light was shed on the current situation, this would be kept as much under wraps as they could manage.

Naturally, however, all of the Weasley's and Potter's were notified immediately.

Kingsley made sure he delivered the news himself. Directly after the Medi-wizards from St. Mungo's had arrived at the Muggle hospital with a half-dozen undercover Aurors, Kingsley left, making sure all knew that his personal Auror, Mr. Dean Thomas, was in charge of the transport. Just after sharing a brief look of relief with Dean, Kingsley Disapparated to the Burrow.

Ron, Hermione and their son, Hugo, had been staying there more often than their home out in Bath. Kingsley understood; there was too much to call attention to the lack of Rose's presence in their home.

He Apparated just outside the garden gate, and broke into a sprint as soon as both feet had made contact with the grass. In his haste, he didn't get a good grip on the latch, and tumbled headfirst over the gate.

"Minister!" there came a startled cry from inside the yard, followed by rapidly approaching footsteps. Suddenly, a freckled and red-headed face appeared over his, blocking out the sun.

For a moment, Kingsley though he had hit his head hard enough to knock him silly. The girl helping him to his feet was almost an exact copy of 15-year old Ginny Weasley. But once he blinked a few times and wasn't staring into the sun, he saw the white lily clip in her long red hair; he corrected himself and knew this wasn't Ginny, but her daughter, Lily Luna Potter.

"Are you okay, Minister?" Lily asked, peering at him concernedly.

"I'm fine Miss Lily," Kingsley assured her. "Are your mother and father here?"

"Yeah, they're both inside with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron. Why?"

Kingsley could barely keep the joyful news from spilling out of his lips forthwith, but he managed to. However, he smiled so wide, that joy showed anyway.

Lily's face scrunched in confusion for a mere second before astonished understanding blossomed across her face. And in the next second she was sprinting back across the lawn towards the house. Kingsley forgot how intuitive Ginny had been. The trait had doubtless been inherited by her daughter; and by the look of things, it had been mightily intensified.

Kingsley took off after her, but he certainly wasn't young anymore. By the time he reached the door, Ron and Hermione were bursting out of it, Harry, Ginny, and by the looks of it, the entire extended Weasley clan right at their heels.

"Kingsley? Is she –?" Hermione could barely form the words; her face was filled with the fear that this wasn't real.

"I saw her myself, Hermione. She was just brought to St. Mungo's before I came here."

She and her husband, who clutched Hugo between them, took off towards the gate without another word. A moment later, there was a loud pop, and all three of them Disapparated.

And in the next moment, it became a chaos of voices and movement.

Fleur and Molly took immediate control of the children, helping to get them ready to Floo to St. Mungo's. Arthur Weasley rushed into the small alcove off the kitchen, scribbling letters to George and Angelina – who were currently at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – and also Percy and Bill, who were at the Ministry.

Kingsley was joined by Harry and Ginny, their faces void of any of the sorrow and weariness the last four months had added.

"Who found her Kingsley?" Harry asked, moving out into the yard.

"The Ministry got an owl from the Muggle Minister about quarter to nine this morning, so I rushed to Floo to his office. He told me that he had gotten word only minutes prior to my arrival of a teenage girl matching the photo and description we gave him and the other Ministers. She had turned up badly injured in Regents Park in London. She was brought to the Muggle hospital nearby; that's where I went and confirmed for myself.

"She was in a very bad way from what I saw, but it was Rose, no doubt in my mind.

"I contacted St. Mungo's for transport after I confirmed her identity and once they arrived I left everything to my personal Auror, Mr. Thomas – you recommended him yourself, didn't you Harry? Well, anyway, I hurried here to deliver the news."

Harry nodded, face thoughtful, but the joy nevertheless undiminished. Ginny looked briefly at Harry, and then turned to Kingsley.

"Shall we all head to St. Mungo's then? I expect almost everyone else has arrived."

Both Kingsley and Harry nodded. They all stepped outside the garden gate, Disapparating instantly once past the wards still protecting the Burrow.

The uproar, Kingsley surmised, he should have anticipated. The magical community wasn't made up of entirely morons after all. The news of Rose's kidnapping was widely known – across the globe even! – and, once Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Weasley's - Harry, Ginny and the Minister of Magic himself not long after them – appeared at St. Mungo's all in a fluster, the  _Daily Prophet_  and not long after,  _the Quibbler_ , would be swooping in on site for the scoop.

Unfortunately, seeing as the Ministry's Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation – who acted as the Ministry's spokes-wizard – was Percy Weasley, and Harry Potter was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Ronald Weasley was Head of the Auror Department, and Hermione Weasley was Head of the International Magical Office of Law... there was no one else in a related department to handle the media correctly.

So, it was up to Kingsley himself.

_Merlin help me..._

* * *

 ...2:04 pm -  **ROSE**

* * *

 

I awoke to crying.

There were soft, but hugely emotional sobs near my head; tears of relief.

In the next moment, all I was aware of was pain.

Every inch of me screamed in agony and I was unable to handle the sensory assault all at once. My eyes flew open as my body sized up and convulsed, ripping an agonized scream from my throat. I thrashed and screeched, pain continuing to course through every inch of my body like lightning.

I was suddenly aware of many hands restraining my flailing limbs, of loud voices calling out orders. I couldn't see anything – the brightness of the room had temporarily blinded me – but a strong, yet gentle pair of hands forced my mouth back open and an icy cold liquid was poured down my throat, turning warm – like liquid sunlight – once I swallowed.

My body relaxed quite quickly then, though the pain was still there; it made my eyes and jaw clench together tightly with tension.

There were murmuring voices close by, and sharp footsteps clacking all around. There came a dripping sound, like water being wrung from a washcloth into a bowl, and then a gently warm cloth was dabbed across my forehead, cheeks, neck, and covering all the other places where my body hurt. In place of the pain, there was a cool, numb sensation instead.

"Can you please open your eyes for me Miss Weasley?" said a calm, slightly high male voice. I did not know who exactly he was referring to as 'Miss Weasley' because that certainly wasn't my name – my name is...  _wait, what is my name...?_

Pinning my lack of following this – scary - train of thought to conclusion on the numb and detached feeling I was experiencing between my mind and body, I figured that he must mean me, so I answered.

"Y-yes..." I croaked, finding my voice high and raspy.

At the same time, I slowly opened my eyes, squinting momentarily against the brightness. A man in white robes stood next to me. He had icy gray eyes which held a gentle concern in their gaze. His hair was visibly receding from his forehead but was a striking platinum blond with some beginnings of gray.

For some strange reason, I felt like I knew this man, though I knew I had never seen him before in my life. There was, however, a silver name pin on his right chest that read:

**HEAD HEALER D. MALFOY**

_Malfoy..._  I rolled the name around in my head, trying to spark some tangible recognition. But... there was nothing....  _Nothing at all._

The man leaned forward to peer into my eyes which were still adjusting to the rooms lighting.

"Good Miss Weasley," he said. "On a scale of one to ten with one being the least and ten being the worst – can you tell me your pain level right now?"

"Um, a one I guess. I'm not in pain but I feel weirdly disconnected from my body," I said.

"The potion and salve were effective then," the Healer responded, nodding. "You were far beyond a ten in pain before, correct?"

At my nod, he continued.

"It is how that treatment works. We are currently still assessing the amount of injury and damage to your body – which outwardly alone is considerable – and when you awoke it occurred that your mind could not handle it. So, this body-and-mind-disconnection you are feeling is how we shield you from the pain until either it is gone, or lessened to where your mind can handle it."

Understanding, I nodded once more.

Here, the Healer started to look uncomfortable.

"As for your mental state, a specialized Trauma Healer – Healer Edgecombe – will be in to speak with you about your ordeal. I know you might not be able to talk about everything yet, Miss Weasley, but your parents are permitted to join you for moral support."

My brow furrowed.

"Ordeal...? Healer Malfoy, what are you talking about? What happened to me to get me here, you mean?  _I_ was hoping you could tell  _me._  And my name, too, that would be helpful. I don't know that either."

Healer Malfoy had such a calm, professional, yet compassionate nature about him. I doubted he had ever been caught off guard. But after I finished speaking, he looked like a hippogriff had kicked him in the stomach.

"You – you don't know who you are? You don't remember – anything?"

I shook my head.

"No. What's going on?"

The Healer stood from where he had been sitting on the edge of my bed, looking even more thrown.

"Please excuse me for a moment. So sorry."

And before I could protest, he was out of the room, door clicking shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post once more this weekend, so here you go!


	4. two: the smallest act of caring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys seemed to like it so much, I figured I'd post another chapter early!

TWO: the smallest act of caring

* * *

 " _Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, o_ _r the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."_  
_-_  Leo Buscaglia

* * *

  _(June 10th, 2024 - 2:34pm) -_   **THIRD PERSON**

* * *

 

 

Draco Malfoy had been a Healer for almost 15 years. Seven of those, he had been the Head Healer for the Fourth Floor, Spell Damage Ward. He had seen a lot of nasty injuries (many from before his Healer days), but he prided himself on always finding some way to help, no matter how small.

After the war, Draco found that without all the fear of his father's ideals and the threats to insure compliance from You-Know-Who and the other Death Eaters, he was not the person he thought he was; he was not the boy those situations made him into.

He was a bright young wizard; a boy who truly wanted to do good things for the world. The warped view of the world he had while at Hogwarts was a result of his upbringing, a result of his father's pure-blood mania. In truth, he was a complete coward. The world was a scary place; if he was roped in with the Death Eaters, they couldn't harm him like they were doing to those in the Order, or Muggles. They couldn't harm him, so long as he didn't do anything they would view as treason to the Dark Lord.

He knew he made all the wrong choices. He chose what was easy, instead of what was right.

This didn't occur overnight, this core-self reevaluation. It took many months after the death of Voldemort, for Draco to sift through everything that existed inside of him. But he did, and he changed; he was determined to atone as much as he could for his, and his family's crimes.

As some (not-so-dumb) Muggle had said, "No matter what your past has been, you still have a spotless future." And so Draco wanted to try.

In school Draco had always been partial to potions - not just because of the preferential treatment he received from the late Professor Severus Snape - and he was actually rather good at it (he was not up to Hermione Granger's level then; he had a lot to contend with, and schoolwork hadn't served as an escape, more like a nuisance).

He had gone to his mother to ask what career would use potions a lot, and she gave him advice to apply to the Healer Program at St. Mungo's.

This task was harder than he originally thought.

For one, Draco hadn't taken his N.E.W.T.'s, nor had he attended or finished his final year at Hogwarts. His surname and the role he played in the war, didn't help at all, either.

Though Draco would deny saying it,  _ever_ , Harry Potter helped him with this problem.

He and Harry were by no means friends after the war - there was far too much bad history between them and his two friends - but a good deal of the bitter, vengeful animosity faded away. There was still tension, yes, but they now functioned like casual, professional acquaintances.

And the way Harry helped was this: because of Draco's mother - Narcissa - lying to the Dark Lord that Harry had been dead in the Forbidden Forest, Harry was willing to pardon the family of their crimes. However, only Draco and Narcissa accepted.

Sadly, even after everything was over, Lucius Malfoy hadn't changed all that much. Still prideful, arrogant and full of distain, he refused the offer and stood his trial. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. However, a small kindness was attached: every other year for three days time, he would be transferred to Malfoy Manor to visit his family.

Draco and his mother - as well as his wife and son - looked forward to these visits. No matter what, they were still family.

He had always understood family. Even if his had been nothing like other wizards, there was a bond. He was very happily married to Astoria née Greengrass, and they had a son, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. He had just turned 17 and would be attending his final year at Hogwarts September 1st.

He, Astoria and Scorpius were close. Their family dynamic was much more open and friendly than the one Draco had had with his family; part of this was due to the fact they weren't living during open war.

But no matter what - they  _were_  Malfoy's, still - they'd never have the family relationship that the Weasley/Potter's did. Mostly because there was only the four of them, and the Weasley and Potters were a grand total of what? 50? He got a headache whenever he tried to count them all, so he had long ago stopped trying. Another one just popped up anyway.

The moment Draco stepped into the corridor Mrs. Hermione Weasley, and Ron right with her, converged on him.

There must have been shock still on his face, because Hermione immediately switched from: "Is she okay now? Can we see her?" - to: "What's wrong with her? Please no! She's not -!" - all while Ron's face stayed ghost-white and stiff.

"Mrs. Weasley! No, she is not dead! I administered an Astral-Body Separation potion and she is no longer in pain."

At this both Hermione and Ron visibly relaxed a bit.

"Her mind couldn't take the pain her body was enduring when she woke and she went into sensory overload," Hermione muttered, nodding to herself, "Right, right."

"Can we see her?" then came Ron's voice, audibly strained.

Draco hesitated. How do you tell someone this? It's not covered in his Healer manual; and he's never had to before...

"What aren't you telling us ferret!?" Ron hissed loudly, stepping forward.

"Ronald! Don't!" Hermione shrieked, putting herself between her husband and Draco and placing both of her palms on Ron's chest.

"She - she doesn't know who she is; n-nothing at all. Amnesia from the trauma," Draco choked out.

The crushing despair on Ron and Hermione's faces always crushed Draco's heart. Hermione broke out into anguished sobs, collapsing against Ron, who had gone even paler, shock freezing him to the spot where he stood.

"I'm so sorry. We'll do everything we can. I promise."

They barely seemed to hear him. Slowly, Draco turned and re-entered Rose's room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

...2:50pm -  **ROSE**

* * *

 

After the Healer had left the room, I had curiously looked at the three other people that remained.

Two women - one blond, one brunette, both in their early to mid thirties - and an older man (maybe 50) with salt-and-pepper gray hair and beard, both cut short and neat. They all wore white Healer robes, but only the man had dark blue lining and trim on his.

They all looked as thrown as Healer Malfoy. The man hid it a little better, but I could still tell. After a moment of stillness where they all stared at me, the blond moved to the large cabinet against the wall, across from the end of my bed. She pulled something out and walked back over to me.

When she held it out to me, I was confused.

"Chocolate?"

"It'll help your shaking subside. It's a small side-effect from the potion we had to give you."

Slowly, I reached out and took the bar from her, biting off a piece. And almost instantly, I felt warmer and calm.

"Thanks," I said, giving her a smile.

The brunette rushed over a moment later with a cloth she had conjured from her wand, holding it to my lip after wiping my chin. They she moved her wand over it and muttered a quick spell.

"What happened?" I asked once she removed the cloth from my lips.

"You reopened your split lip and it started bleeding. Healer Dolmen cleaned and healed it," answered the blond.

I nodded slowly, which was weird to do. My neck was all still, but because of the potion, I didn't feel pain from whatever injury was there.

"Please try to move as little as possible, Miss Weasley," said the brunette, Healer Dolmen. "Because you don't feel pain, you don't know what you shouldn't move. You may move something that needs to stay still and therefore injure yourself worse."

"Of course," I replied.

"Clyde," now said the blond to the man, "should we start healing her further, or do we need to wait for Head Healer Malfoy's okay?"

Clyde frowned for a moment before answering in a deep rumbling voice,

"We should wait. I will check on where -"

At that moment, Healer Malfoy reentered the room and Clyde stopped speaking.

Crossing over to the cabinet the blond had gotten the chocolate bar from, he said,

"Healer Dolmen, please make sure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrive at the private waiting room with the rest of the relatives. They are outside."

"Yes, sir," she said with a nod, hurrying out the door.

Turning from the cabinet with six different colored and sized bottles, as well as quite a few tins and boxes, all levitated by his wand, Healer Malfoy spoke to the other two Healers.

"Healer Adornetto -" the blond, "and Healer Coltern - " Clyde, "please assist me in this please."

Then turning to me, he said,

"Miss Weasley, the potion we gave won't last much longer as it's unwise to separate mind and body - even a little bit - for any more than a half an hour. I am going to have to give you a sleeping potion to knock you out while we heal your injuries."

I nodded.

"Depending on the severity, you could be out for only a few hours, or a few days. Someone will be here when you wake, though."

"Okay. You'll be able to answer my questions then?"

He hesitated a moment before saying the truth.

"I do not know. I hope so. You  _will_  know. We just have to make sure you are sufficiently healed first. I am sorry."

I was silent for a moment before I spoke.

"Thank you for being honest, sir," and I took the small glass of blue creamy-looking potion from hi, swallowing it quickly.

And within moments, I sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 (5:11pm -  _Three hours later..._ ) -  **THIRD PERSON**

* * *

 

Draco left Rose's room, Clyde behind him, both looking worn.

They both stopped besides each other once the door was shut. They were both silent. But it was Clyde who spoke first.

"That poor girl. How did she survive whatever in Merlin's name happened to her?"

"She is strong. And very, very brave. A true Gryffindor," Draco replied, in awe himself.

"Still... those injuries... I haven't seen anything like that since the first war with You-Know-Who. He tortured more often and freely then. I really hope she remembers, though I don't wish those doubtless horrible memories upon anymore... but we need to catch the monster who did this. We can't have another Dark war. The wizarding world will never survive yet another."

Draco agreed.

"Please make sure Isobel has someone to relieve her in an hour. Rotate the shifts in three hour intervals, and only senior trusted Healers. I don't care if they have to be called in from bed. However, Miss Weasley shouldn't wake until the morning. Still... we should have someone there. Just in case."

Clyde nodded, handing the clipboard that was in his hand to Draco.

"You'll alert Marietta then?" he asked

"Yes. Healer Edgecombe needs a full debrief from me. I will see you at five tomorrow morning, Clyde."

"Goodnight, Draco," he said, heading off down the corridor, to the right.

Draco took a deep breath and then turned left, heading to the lift which would take him to the Healer offices on the top floor.

However, once he reached the lift, it opened to reveal Harry Potter himself.

"Harry," Draco said.

"Hello, Draco. I need to speak with you before you visit Ron and Hermione."

Draco nodded.

"Alright. When and where would you like?" he asked.

Harry cracked a small grin.

"Draco. You're the Head Healer in this ward. This is your workplace, your place of authority. I bend to  _your_ responsibilities."

Draco's face colored and he clenched his teeth. Before he could respond, Harry spoke again.

"Please pardon my glib comment, Draco. You have no need to be told not to treat me as a hero. You are just doing your job to accommodate your patient's family."

The flush began to fade and Draco nodded to the spectacled man before him.

"Of course. It's no fault to either of us. It's been a long, stressful day for all."

"It's been a long, stressful four months..." Harry muttered, but looked up at Draco a moment later, nodding. Draco thought then that Harry hadn't meant him to hear that, so he quickly spoke.

"I'm on my way to debrief our resident Trauma specialist. She is a sort of counselor to those who have been in severely traumatizing situations. She can help Rose and hopefully find out exactly why Rose remembers nothing of herself. You can join me if you like."

"Thank you. That sounds good," Harry said, pressing the button for the lift which in the time of their conversation had left. A moment later, the doors slid open and they both stepped inside, top-floor bound.

"Who is the specialist?" Harry asked as they left the lift and made their way to the office.

"You may remember her from our fifth year, though she was actually a year older than us. She was a Ravenclaw, friends with Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe. Wasn't it her who - "

"Yeah. She ratted out the DA Club to Umbridge and you guys in the Inquisitorial Squad. I never blamed her all that much. It was a tough year for all. And it didn't get any easier for a good long while."

Draco nodded.

A moment later, they stopped before her office. Draco knocked. A second after his knuckles left the door it opened the reveal a dark-haired middle-aged woman with heavy face make-up. It was only because Harry was looking for it that he saw the pock-scars across her face that spelled 'SNEAK'.

Marietta Edgecombe looked slightly thrown to see both Harry Potter and Draco before her - especially the two together without their wands pressed to each other's throats - but she didn't comment. She silently stepped aside to let the two men into the room.

Marietta shut the door and locked it before sitting behind her desk. Motioning for Harry and Draco to take the two armchairs in front of her, she said,

"Tell me all you know and have theorized, Draco. I will help all I can."


	5. three: now is right on time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just an FYI: so, this chapter is a lot of psycho-analysis stuff. Hermione brought in some Muggle healing to St. Mungo's, i.e. mental health care.  
> and also, thanks everyone who has read, and those who have given me kudos! It means a lot!

THREE: now is right on time

* * *

 " _Your journey has molded you for the greater good, and it was exactly what it needed to be. Don't think that you've lost time. It took each and every situation you have encountered to bring you to the now. And now is right on time."_  
_-_ _Asha Tyson_

* * *

  _(July 11th, 2024 - 9:21pm - Four hours later..._ ) - **THIRD PERSON**

* * *

 

"It seems to me, now that I am in possession of all the facts, that Miss Weasley's lack of memory is from the ordeal, and not from a spell or curse," Marietta said, folding her hands across her desk.

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"Because of a number of things: first, we have to take into account of just  _who_  she is. Everyone in the wizarding world knows her face, her parents... her relatives. It isn't likely her kidnapping was happenstance. If it had been, we would have gotten demands in exchange for her safe return and she wouldn't be as injured as she is."

"Why not?" Harry asked again.

It was Draco who answered his question instead of Marietta.

"Kidnappers who are looking for ransom don't want to anger those who are going to get them what they are demanding. Often, in order for the negotiations to go in the kidnappers favor, the family of the victim demand 'proof of life' - like hearing their voice and having a conversation with them, that way they know they are still alive and they aren't just being tricked into thinking so - and that the victim isn't harmed in any way. It usually ends badly for the kidnappers if they do harm their 'bargaining chip', if you excuse to crudeness of applying the term to human life."

Harry nodded and Marietta gave a small smile to Draco for his explanation. She picked up where she had left off before Harry's question.

"Second, since we found her out of the blue, I surmise that she had escaped from wherever it was she had been held. However, in regards to trying to find her kidnappers, Mr. Potter, it wouldn't be smart to look just around London. Yes, Rose was horribly injured, but if her captors were somewhere in close vicinity - about 20 kilometers in every direction, let's estimate. It's a good size; not too small an area, or too large - they would have found her before we did.

"Somehow, Rose used magical transport - or something other than her two feet - to get to London. But, I don't think she was all that far from London to begin with. Rose was smart. She was hurt, and trying to get away and back to us. She got to a very public place where she would found and when she was, the Ministry would hear about it quickly.

"If I'm not mistaken, Rose turned of age a few days before the kidnapping. Not having the Trace on her is one of the reasons she was much harder to locate. However, she hadn't taken the Apparation exam yet, but again, taking into account her parentage; I bet she would have passed with flying colors when she was fifteen. So, it is possible she got to London by Apparating, but none of the injuries you recorded and described suggest that she Splinched herself. Unless she's more brilliant that I give her credit for, I don't think she Apparated. It is also possible her captors placed Anti-Apparation spells where she was held, so we have to take that into account as a possibility.

"But, no broomstick, or Portkey - which is very, very unlikely. It's near impossible she found one or had the means and knowledge to make one. Especially in her condition - was found nearby in Regents Park. So, the only way to be sure of the details if for Rose to tell us."

"How do you suggest we get that to happen?" Draco asked.

"Well, since it was most likely an impromptu escape and she wasn't just dumped there for us to find - "

"Wait. That's been bugging me," Harry interrupted. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but no matter how much I wish I could just treat Rose as my niece, there's also the fact that she's a kidnapping victim. No one wants this to be the start of another Dark Rising. However I hate to ask this, I have to: you are sure this  _is_  Rose? She's not a Metamorphamagus, or an imposter? And if it really is her, she hadn't been Impursed or anything? She has been gone for four months. We have no idea what happened to her. While I have full faith that she wouldn't break or turn for them, knowing her as my niece. But taking into account she's a young, seventeen year old witch, it's possible, she was."

Draco answered.

"Harry, we did a full magical exam on her. It is truly Rose. She isn't under any enchantment, or anything like it."

"But what about her memory loss?" Harry countered.

"Mr. Potter," interjected Marietta. "I was just about to start on that part of my conclusion when you interrupted."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, slightly abashed.

"It's of no matter. I understand why you had to ask. So, let me just continue, alright?"

Both men nodded.

"She wasn't just dumped there for the logic that whoever took her doesn't seem like he's just give her up; her injuries suggest he or she had some sort of plan. Like you mentioned, Mr. Potter, it might have been to break her and turn her to their side - whoever they are. So, I will rule out wand work, like a Memory Charm. It is most likely due to the ordeal that she had amnesia.

"Her mind is protecting her from the horrors. Thought it seems to be doing too good a job, and blocked everything that could trigger her to remember."

"Her entire past? Why would that trigger it?" Harry asked.

Marietta nodded, and then explained.

"Yes, her whole identity. Because we figure that  _who_ she is, is why she was taken, therefore  _knowing_  who she is could very well trigger anything about her ordeal. The mind is complex, and even now, still not fully understood."

"So," Draco began, "if her mind is blocking her ordeal to keep her sane, how do we trigger to memories without causing her further mental harm?"

Marietta was silent for a few moments, thinking.

"I will talk with her. She needs to be told who she is. The family, Mr. Potter, will be vital for this. I need them to bring items, pick special memories, anything to help Rose remember. Since this is a secure environment and full of Healers, should something unexpectedly go wrong, it would be best to keep her here where we have the best care available. She should remain here, then, for at least two more weeks while we attempt to help her regain her memories."

Both Harry and Draco nodded. Sighing a moment later, Marietta stood and pulled her dark traveling cloak off the back of her chair.

"It is late and I need to rest before we start tomorrow," she said, gathering her things as both men also stood.

"Of course, me as well," Draco said.

"Send word to me once she is awake, please, Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, I will. You and the family will be alerted as well, Harry," Draco assured the dark-haired man.

"Thank you," he said,

"It is my job," he replied.

Harry gave the smallest of smiles as they all left Healer Edgecombe's office, heading to the lift and then their separate ways for the night.

Tomorrow would be an interesting day; no doubt about that.

* * *

  _(July 23rd, 2024 - 10:34pm - Two weeks later...) -_ **ROSE**

* * *

 

I have learned quite a lot about myself since I woke up with no memory about a fortnight ago.

But nothing triggered my own memories. Nothing.

All of my - good Merlin there were a lot! - relatives brought things to try and trigger a memory: photographs, books, possessions that were mine, food even! They told me stories of past events, holiday mayhem from years past... but nothing worked.

The only person who was there more than my parents and brother was my cousin, Albus, and my self-proclaimed best friend, Adela. According to Albus, I was his best friend - other than a guy named Scorpius Malfoy, who was my Healer's son! Go figure! - since forever. I was the one who bailed him out of the worst of his messes, and made sure he did his homework. And he was the one to help Adela drag me away from mine to have some fun.

Adela and Albus were never there at the same time, though, which I found strange. If we were all best friends, why did one leave whenever the other arrived to visit? I didn't get it; it must be something I knew in my memory; which is just downright aggravating.

Adela would entertain me with funny stories from school, how she enlisted Albus's and a few of my other cousins help in to prank the other nasty girls in our dorm - not including my cousin Dominique, though - and narrations about her favorite Quidditch matches against Slytherin (she plays Chaser for the Gryffindor team).

They both mentioned Scorpius a lot. I was getting curious about this elusive friend. Why didn't he visit me, if we were such good friends?

It was late one night, and Adela was sitting by my side, laughing it up with me about a story about April Fool's day, our third year, where Albus got pranked by his older brother, James, in the middle of the Great Hall, when Healer Malfoy walked in.

"Hey girls," he greeted.

"Hey," we replied, giggling.

"Miss McKinnon, I'm sorry to ask you to leave, but it's well past visiting hours and I just got an owl from your mother, wondering where you were. She sounded quite panicked."

Adela made a face, then sighed.

"Oh, the woes of having Muggle parents. Thanks for letting me know, Healer Malfoy."

She leaned down to give me a hug.

"I'll visit you tomorrow if I can, Rose. Sleep tight."

"Thanks Adela."

"No prob bestie." She grinned.

She gave a salute to Healer Malfoy, before picking up her purse and walking out the door.

Once she left, Healer Malfoy came over to my bedside to pour my nightly potion. Handing me the small glass of dark liquid, I downed it and took a bite of the chocolate he handed me afterwards.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he asked,

"Anything today Rose?"

I opened my mouth to answer, when there was a loud knock on the closed door.

"Yes?"

The door opened, and there stood a very handsome miniature of the man sitting beside me.

"Scorpius? What are you doing here so late son?" Healer Malfoy asked, confused.

_Scorpius..._

The boy's molten silver eyes were trained on me, and it was as he opened his mouth to reply to his father's question, that it happened.

All of a sudden, my whole body sized up. My muscles froze and an excruciating pins-and-needles sensation prickled all over.

Scorpius noticed my shocked face first, and rushed towards me, drawing his father's gaze to my face. But he made the wrong conclusion.

"Rose! Did you remember something?!" he asked excitedly, jumping off the bed.

But I couldn't answer. In the next second, such unbelievable white hot pain shot through my whole body, ripping an agonized scream from my throat.

The painful sensations were so intense I was only faintly aware of the sudden commotion around me.

My chest felt like it was caving in, my ribs being forced apart. I could barely breathe. My hands gripped the bed-sheets, and they started changing: the bones becoming more compact and claws growing from my nails.

My shoulders jerked violently backwards and my spine started rearranging itself; my facial bones started to shift, my jaw jutting outwards into a long snout and my teeth growing longer and razor sharp. I could only whine pitifully now, an almost animal-like sound.

The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

My body jerked around the bed, and off it once I fell; my limbs changing and rearranging, dark red hair sprouting everywhere. My ears grew larger and elongated and my tail began pushing its way from the base of my spine, growing and becoming furred.

The whole excruciating process took less than five minutes, until I finally stood in my full lupintine form.

The last thing I saw before everything went dark, was Scorpius.

"Rose?" he asked, eyes wide.

His voice was deep, soothing. Nothing I had expected or imagined, especially not after what just happened.

This astonished thought was the last I had before everything around me was gone.

* * *

  _(July 26th, 2024 - 11:01am) -_   **ROSE**

* * *

 

I woke alone in a dark room on a hard concrete floor. I was disoriented, blinking to make something out in the darkness.

I was lying on my stomach and when I tried to push myself upright, I realized I was shaking, weak and terribly cold.

Also, I was completely naked.

Terror took me then, making the shivering worsen. Where was I? Why was I so weak and completely naked?!

I tried to push myself upright again, this time succeeding; my fear giving me the strength I needed. Stumbling to my feet, I wrapped my arms across my exposed chest and tried to call out, only to find my throat dry and raw.

A moment later, the darkness disappeared. The brightness was so sudden that it rendered me blind. I staggered back a few steps, unbelievably frightened. It was only when I heard a door open somewhere in front of me, did I truly panic, streaking in the opposite direction till I could go no farther, Huddling against the wall with my arms wrapped tightly around myself, I tried to be brave.

It was only when a soothing male voice spoke, did everything rush back.

"Rose? It's all right. You're alright now,"

I only saw his molten silver eyes, wide with concern, for a second before I passed out. And in the split second before I did, everything became clear. Well, almost everything.

* * *

 3:13pm -  **ROSE**

* * *

 

When I woke the next time I was fully clothed and lying in a bed. I blinked, looking wearily around the room.

Almost instantly, my gaze fell on Healer Malfoy, who was sitting next to my bed, scribbling with his quill on a large stack of parchment on his lap.

Again, I was struck by the strong similarities between him and his son. But, as soon as I thought of Scorpius, his face jumped to the forefront of my mind. Instantly, I knew something was different. That image,  _that memory,_  was from Hogwarts, fourth year.

I looked back at the man sitting in the chair before me, and I didn't just see my Healer as I had the past few weeks, I saw him and realized I finally  _remembered!_

My eyes widened and a small exclamation of surprise tumbled from my lips.

His gaze jerked up to meet mine and instantly he was over to my side.

"Miss Weasley?"

"I - I remember you," I croaked.

His eyes widened. Hurriedly conjuring a glass of water with his wand, he handed it to me as I slowly sat up in the bed. After draining it twice, I handed it back to him.

"What do you remember Miss Weasley?" he asked.

"I know who you are. I know who I am. I remember everything from the past few weeks and who my family is," I replied in a rush. "I can remember Hogwarts, and my fifth birthday, learning to fly and -"

"Miss Weasley, do you remember what happened to you four months ago?" he asked, cutting across me, his voice breathless.

"Yes, I -" but I stopped. Frowning, I thought. "No. No I don't. The only thing I remember was walking along the lake at Hogwarts before a Quidditch game and then... nothing until I woke up here three weeks ago."

Mr. Malfoy frowned, looking confused and disappointed.

"I'm sorry. I truly don't know," I said.

He nodded.

"It will return, I think, in its own time," he said. Then his face became serious.

"Miss Weasley. Do you remember what happened to you three nights ago?"

Slowly, I nodded. Of course I remembered. How could I forget? Swallowing thickly, I said softly,

"I turned into a werewolf."

Healer Malfoy face became pained, and he nodded.

"Yes. You did."

Suddenly, something occurred to me.

"Oh my goodness! Please tell me I didn't attack anyone!" I cried in absolute horror.

"No, Miss Weasley. You did not cause anyone harm. We were able to corral you into our holding room. You were surprisingly calm, hardly aggressive at all. That is very strange for a transformed lycanthrope who has not consumed the Wolf's Bane potion."

I nodded, relief washing over me.

"What going to happen to me now?" I asked.

"Well, we are going to keep you here until tomorrow to make sure nothing more is the matter. You can go home then, if that is the case. However, the morning of the next full moon, you will be taken here so we can see how your wolf is while on the Wolf's Bane potion. We will deliver it to you the week leading up to the full moon. You must take it every day at the same time. I recommend after dinner, at 8pm."

"And what about school?"I asked hurriedly.

"You can attend of course. Professor DeVane will brew the potion for you and a room will be put aside for your transformations during the full moon, where you'll be safe and alone."

I nodded relieved.

"Um, who knows about..."

Healer Malfoy smiled comfortingly.

"Only those who need to know. Your parents and brother, Headmistress McGonagall and Professor DeVane. The Minister and a few Senior Healers, as well, but the Healers are magically bound to secrecy."

I knew he left one person out.

"And, Scorpius, too, right?" I said.

Mr. Malfoy didn't say anything for a moment.

"We erased the memories of all the people involved in your transfer to the room you were in before, who didn't need to know. I am leaving it up to you if you want my son to be one of those people."

"No. No, Scorpius is my friend. If he doesn't want to know, or you don't want him to, I understand. It's his choice to live with the knowledge of what I am or not." I said, quietly.

Mr. Malfoy stared at me for what left like a long time.

"I will give him the choice, Miss Weasley. Thank you for that," Taking a breath, he said, "Your parents and brother are outside; they wish to see you."

"Please, send them in," I said softly.

Healer Malfoy nodded and headed to the door. But he stopped just before it.

"I am very sorry this happened to you, Rose," he said.

"Me too."

As he let my parents in I realized that was the first time he had addressed me as Rose.


	6. four: we make the world we live in

FOUR: we make the world we live in

* * *

 " _We make the world we live in and shape our own environment. "_

_\- Orison Swett Marden_

* * *

  _(July 27th, 2024 – 1:22pm)_  -  **ROSE**

* * *

  

I was nervous.

Mum sat with me in my hospital room while Hugo and dad sat on the bench outside. We all were waiting for Healer Malfoy to return and either clear me to go home, or deliver more bad news and I'd have to stay.

I was anxious to know if I could finally go home... but most of all, I was frightened.

To leave the safety of St. Mungo's... to have to deal with the media once again... that I was a monster...

I hated myself.

But I didn't let anyone know that.

My whole family knows of Remus Lupin; all of the adults  _knew_  him. He was 'cousin' Teddy's father. He died at the Battle of Hogwarts with his wife and Teddy's mom, Nymphadora Tonks. He had been the DADA professor in Mum, Dad's and Uncle Harry's Third year at school. He was one of Uncle Harry's father's best friends.

He had been a werewolf... like me.

To this day, I don't know why the Sorting Hat put me into Gryffindor. Was it just because I'm a Weasley? Well, then the Sorting Hat's gone bonkers. I'm the most non-Weasley-ish Weasley there is! I'm not courageous, like the House is known for. I just have a really bad temper.

I know that it's very new to me, knowing what I am. I hope I'll accept it someday, if not at least come to terms with it. But right now, I hate what I am.

The Wizarding World hasn't made much headway in eliminating werewolf prejudice in the past three decades. I'm not naive to think that just because I'm the daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley, people will accept me and treat me the same way I was before. I have never used my name to get me anywhere. I am where I am and  _who_  I am today, because of my own actions and decisions; because of my hard work. That's not going to change now.

So, this... condition... is going to be a secret. Only the people, who know as of this moment, are the only ones who  _will ever_  know. I will do my damndest to keep it that way.

Mum and dad were devastated. They only just got me back, only... now not really. They've been really supportive, but I know they are dying inside. They don't truly have their daughter back: they have a monster in the guise of her.

Hugo has barely spoken to me. I don't blame him.

I was holding tightly with both of my hands to my mum's. I really didn't want to have to find out there was something  _more_  wrong with me.

A moment later, the door opened, and Healer Malfoy stepped inside, studying the parchment on the clipboard in his hands. Almost absentmindedly, he closed the door behind him after motioning for dad and Hugo to enter with him.

"How are you feeling today, Miss Weasley?" he asked, walking over to stand next to my mother, finally lifting his gaze from the parchment.

"Not any different from yesterday," I replied truthfully.

"Good, good. Well, nothing else seems to be the matter with you. All your injuries have healed perfectly and... well, except for your lycanthrope bite of course. That will always be there."

He said the last part sadly, and I knew he really did feel awful that this happened to me. But, it wasn't pity that I was sensing. More like... empathy. I wasn't sure what to make of that.

I nodded sadly, absentmindedly placing my hand over my right shoulder, where a large scar that was bumpy and ugly and the palest white, reached down from my back on my shoulder-blade, to near my collar-bone. It looked like I was scratched as well as gnawed upon.

"You are free to return home, though you will need to return the morning of August 11th for us to assess how your wolf reacts to the Wolf's Bane potion. It will be sent to you each of the seven days before the full moon. I have assigned two owls to you personally: barn owls, brother and sister, by the names of Leon and Gloria. They will be the only ones to deliver your potion and should you need to contact me, or anyone at St. Mungo's, please use them only."

Both my mother and I nodded.

"Alright then, I just need your signature, Miss Weasley for the release form and you're free to go."

Healer Malfoy conjured a self-inking quill, handing the clipboard and it to me. I signed my name quickly, and the parchment vanished. I handed the quill and clipboard back to him.

He gave me a kind smile.

"I will see you in a month, Rose. Be safe. And owl if you remember  _anything."_

"Of course."

* * *

 ...1:40pm

* * *

 

It wasn't until we had reached the out-patient waiting room, did I begin to freak out.

I was going  _home._ Home. For the first time in more than a year, I'd be in my own bed, in my own house. A little spout of joy soared inside me, only to be extinguished by dread.

Will it still be the same... now that I'm so different?

I was terrified to find out.

We'd decided to take a Portkey – Hugo was still underage and Mum knew without asking that I didn't want to risk Apparation so soon.

We live in the town of Mawnan in South Cornwall, in an old Victorian country house with a couple of acres of land. It's been modernized, but we have kept the outside looking as much the same as it did when we bought it, keeping most of the original architecture.

We were told our Portkey was almost ready and we moved away from the queue in front of the window to wait. I tried to ignore the lingering stares of the people around us, and the ones who were passing by. But... I almost couldn't, and that just added to my fear. I was supposed to be used to it! I have been since I was eight years old... But, somehow, I just  _knew_  that I wasn't anymore.

I was freaking out, thinking they saw me as a monster now, though in the back of my mind, I knew they couldn't  _know._

Mum broke me out of my panic attack with a slight squeeze of my hand.

"It'll be okay, Rose. You'll be home in a minute. I'm just as curious, you know, to see if it's the way we left it."

I looked at her, feeling a slight smile cross my face. Mum knew me so well.

Mutely, I nodded and a moment later, saving me from the stares, a St. Mungo's attendant bustled up to us, motioning for us to follow her to the Portkey-departure room right off the one we were in.

Inside, the room was larger than I expected, though I belatedly realized it made sense: Portkey's could transport easily a dozen wizards; you'd need a room large enough to hold them all comfortably. I knew from my own firsthand experience that traveling by Portkey didn't necessarily have a smooth landing.

The Portkey was a battered fold-up map of the London underground from a decade ago. The St. Mungo's witch tossed the Portkey into the air in the middle of the room where it hovered at chest level.

"You're all familiar with Portkey travel, I presume?" she asked.

"Yes," mum said. "We're familiar."

The witch nodded.

"Right. I'll leave you to it then. You have one minute before it activates."

She turned around to head out of the room, but her hand froze on the doorknob at the last moment. Slowly she turned to look over her shoulder.

"Forgive me," she said timidly, "but I just want to express how glad I am you're safe, Rose. Everyone is."

Then, she gave a soft smile and vanished out the door.

_Not everyone._

Mentally, I froze, wondering where  _that_  morbid thought came from. I didn't have time to mull over it, though.

Mum gave a small smile and dad clapped me in what I'm sure he thought was an understanding gesture, on my shoulder. Unfortunately, it was my right one, and the scar was still tender, even after all this time. I didn't know if it would ever be completely okay.

I drew in a breath, hissing at the sharp pain coursing through my torso.

"Merlin! Rosie!" Dad exclaimed, totally freaking. "I'm so sorry, I forgot and – Merlin! Are you alright?"

My face was still crumpled in pain, but I nodded, giving a weak,

"I'll be fine. It's okay dad."

"No! It's not! I can't believe I –" he persisted, but mum cut across him in a soft voice.

"Ronald. Now's not the time." Nodding behind her to the Portkey which had started to glow blue, dad gave one last hugely apologetic grimace at me before we all rushed over, putting a finger on the paper.

A moment later, spinning wind engulfed us and indistinguishable images flashed by our eyes.

And almost as soon as it started, it was over, and we were landing on the soft grass of the field across the street, the Portkey not able to take us into the property line, due to our many protection charms. Also, our house is Unplotable – so, for the address we just used the field, the one part of our property that isn't added into the protection charms and whatnot's influence.

The second I saw the house, I felt... light. Almost as if everything I had been worried about inside me had disappeared.

Dad was carrying a bag, which was full of some of the things people had brought to me at St. Mungo's and other assorted medical parchments. We crossed the road and mum pulled out her wand to unlock the gate.

The four of us walked towards the house with barely subdued excitement. It wasn't until the building itself come into view, did I understand why mum, dad and Hugo's emotions mirrored mine: even from the outside, the house looked almost abandoned.

Upon seeing the tall, untrimmed grass and hedges, flowerbeds overgrown with weeds, the glass on the windows all dusty and dirty, the rain gutters all visibly clogged with twigs and leaves, I stopped dead in my tracks.

It took a moment before any of them realized I had stopped walking.

"Rose?" instantly came dad's query, his tone already on the brink of hysteria.

"You – you guys didn't – where were you these last five months?" I asked, bewildered. I knew they hadn't been here in all that time because there was no way mum would have let the house and yard descend into this. They really hadn't been here in a very long time.

But, why?

"The Burrow," said Hugo, the first words he had spoke to me since... my affliction became known.

Eyes wide and childlike in their confusion, I looked between mum and dad, silently asking.

"There was... too much of you here, Rose. We couldn't..." dad said in a strangled soft of voice, anguish evident all over his and mum's face. Hugo's betrayed nothing.

Numbly, I nodded.

And, "Oh," was all I said; I simply couldn't make anything else come out.

We four stood there in silence a moment longer before I began to walk again. They followed my lead.

The soft gravel of the driveway created an almost comforting crackling sound as we walked. This sound I knew. This sound I grew up with, footsteps crunching on the gravel. It was that familiarity that gave me the courage to turn the knob and open the door to the house – however currently neglected it looked – I grew up in.

Home.

Inside was dim, though it was early afternoon and the sun was brightly shining. I attributed this to the layer of dust on the windows.

Mum followed me in, then Hugo, then dad. With a small clunk, dad set down the bag he was carrying on the dark stained hardwood floor. Already, the thick layer of dust there was disturbed by our footsteps, making Hugo cough.

We looked around in the dim light, taking it all in – before mum, sensible mum – pulled out her wand and illuminated the room, turning on all the lamps and lights with one wordless sweep of her wand-arm.

I hate to say it, but the light just made it look worse.

It wasn't messy, like food dishes or wrappers, trash and junk everywhere. It was just the dusty, stale air, the unused feeling of the place.

"Looks like we have some cleaning to do," mum said with a surprisingly wry smile on her face.

"Better call in the troops," dad muttered. He hated cleaning. He always muttered something about 'spiders' and 'robe strangulation' where mum made him do it.

Mum didn't reply to his suggestion right away. Wordlessly, she turned to look at me, studying my face. It seemed that whatever she saw there made her decision.

"No, not this time," she said, immediately prompting dad and Hugo to groan; this was not an appropriate response, as both of them should have known by now.

"Ronald Bilius and Hugo Alexander! This is our house and we can certainly clean it by ourselves!"

"But mum! I can't use magic!" Hugo whined.

She chose to just glare at him, and he shut up.

"Ronald, you can start on the yard. Hugo, you will start with your room. I'm positive it's a disaster as you never clean it anyway. You'll work your way down to me where I'll be starting in the kitchen."

Dad had already left after mum said, 'yard' – which was mighty nice of her (dad loved to work on the yard), and a swift glance from her sent Hugo grumbling upstairs.

"And me?" I asked.

Mum looked startled I asked.

"Nothing for you right now, Rose," she said in a soft voice. Upon my opening my mouth to protest she added, "You can help later, I promise." She paused. "Rose... you just got home. Please, let us baby you for a while okay?"

Tears welled up in her eyes and I nodded. "Okay, mum," and I fell into her hug, knowing mum really did need to treat me like I was six again; at least for a little while.

Sniffling, she let me go a moment later. "Go on up to your room; I know you're going to need to clean it, but you don't have a time limit like your brother. Just... enjoy being home, okay?"

I nodded, surprisingly both equally eager and wary to see my room.

_Will it still be the same room to me? Will anything mean the same things anymore...?_

I was more than terrified to find out.

I stood paralyzed before my door, my fingers mere centimeters from touching my doorknob.

I don't know how long I stood there, but it was the impatient  _hoot!_  that eventually came from inside that snapped me out of my statue imitation. I almost didn't even think; I threw open the door and I barely had time to take in that my bedroom was indeed how I remembered it to be before I was assaulted by a feathery projectile.

"Eri!" I cried in jubilation as she landed on my shoulder and butted her head enthusiastically into mine. I reached up and stroked her beautiful feathers, but she was too restless to allow more than two strokes before she was flapping madly around my head, loudly hooting non-stop.

"Rose!" came mum's cry from downstairs, getting louder as I heard her thundering up the stairs to reach my room. In moments she was in my doorway, Hugo suddenly right there as well. Seeing nothing but my owl greeting me, she seemed at a loss for an appropriate reaction.

"I knew your bird was mad," was all Hugo said, before heading back to his bedroom nextdoor.

I grinned slightly as Eri finally stopped acting mental – though I had missed her too – and flew to perch on top of her cage by the open window next to my desk. That sounded like Hugo.

I turned to mum,

"Mum," I said kindly, taking in her still slightly panicked and out of breathe form, "I'm a fully capable, Of Age Witch. I can handle myself if anything happens."

"But you didn't back in March!" she shrieked, her face closing in on hysteria as dad's had earlier.

"It was Hogwarts," was my calm reply. I couldn't go to pieces, too. "It was supposed to be safe. I wasn't expecting to be attacked like I was. I know better now mum. I know to be on guard, always, now."

This reply only made her facial expressions war more prominently against each other: appeasement from my logic, and pure, exhausting pain from the fact that I should have to be on guard at all.

I walked forward to envelope her in a hug once more.

"It'll be alright mum." I whispered.

She hugged me tightly against her, her breathing heavy.

"I know, Rose. I just got you back... I'm going to be jumpy for a good while."

I nodded into her hair. "I know. We all will."

We pulled back and she gave me a watery smile.

"Hey!" I exclaimed suddenly, "Where's my wand?"

Her face became astonished.

"Good Merlin! How could I forget to give that back to you!" she exclaimed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out hers. With a quick flick, she summoned the bag dad had been carrying. She quickly unlocked it and rummaged through the few contents before it was in her hand.

Almost gingerly, I took it from her outstretched hands, and instantly, my whole body flooded with warmth and calmness.

I closed my eyes in happiness, gripping the dark wood tightly, and I am soon lost in a comforting memory...

_I was eleven years old, and I insisted on doing my Hogwarts shopping by myself. Mum fretted a bit, and Dad laughed, but I was allowed to do so._

_The day was eventful, as I saw all the things witches like myself used at school and in their daily lives. It was wondrous! I admitted to Mum that I spent and got more than I probably needed, but she just clucked at me with a smile, and sent me up to my room to pack it all._

_But the most interesting part - which I saved for last - was getting my wand._

_I was nervous._ What if no wand picked me? What if I'm not really a witch after all?  _I walked past the closed doors of Ollivanders with a sad frown, wishing he still sold wands in his retirement. I had always wanted a wand from him._

_Just as I passed and was heading across the street to Hornthwipit's instead, a little bell rang and an old raspy voice called out._

_"Rose Weasley? Is that you child?"_

_I whipped around and saw Ollivander himself, leaning out of his front shop door._

_Several passersby paused and stared in shock, seeing the famous wandmaker in the flesh._

_I nodded quickly, and a smile blossomed across his lips. He then beckoned me to him with urgency, and so I obliged._

_Moments later I was inside the dusty and dim store, the door shut tight behind us, and the curtains drawn. I did not feel frightened._

_"You can put down your things Miss Rose. You need your hands free if you're going to find a wand."_

_I let out a small gasp, gaping at Mr. Ollivander._

_"But - you don't sell wands to anyone!" I protested in shock._

_"You're right. Not anyone," he agreed with me as he perused his stacks and stacks and_ stacks  _of wands._

_I stood there saddened and confused, as the minutes rolled by and he continued to look and pull wand boxes off his shelves._

_He then turned and brought his load back to the front counter and laid them upon it._

_"But you... you Miss Rose... I have been waiting my whole life to match a wand to you."_

_"What do you mean?" I asked, but he seemed not to hear me and instead removed a wand from it's box, handing it out to me._

_"Spruce and unicorn hair, 11 inches, rigid."_

_I gripped it in my hands and it was immediately ripped out again._

_"No. What was I thinking..." and he then produced another._

_"Silver lime and phoenix feather, 12 inches, highly flexible."_

_And again, had I not more than touched the wood, it was removed._

_Again and again and again, for hours, the process continued. Wand boxes piled up on the counter until he had to place them on the floor around him. We had gone through almost a hundred wands, and I was getting discouraged. So, too, was Ollivander._

_"Have I not made the wand destined for her? How could such a blunder be made?" and other things of the like._

_When he was taking another trip down the aisles, my gaze fell upon a cushion at the shop window and the wand laid upon it._

_Without thinking, my feet moved forward towards it. My hand reached out of its own accord and gripped the wand between my fingers._

_It was instantaneous._

_A warm sensation started in my palm and rushed over my body until I felt like the glory of the sun was the only thing under my skin. Dimly at first, the wand started to glow a dull grey, then all at once, erupted into an ethereal silver light that illuminated the entirety of the shop._

_And only moments later, it all faded away, leaving only the fainting warm, calming feeling in my heart._

_I turned around, and saw Mr. Ollivander._

_He looked positively thrown with shock._

_"Do you know what you have in your hand there, Miss Rose?" he whispered._

_I began to shake my head no, but stopped and said,_

_"My wand, Mr. Ollivander."_

_He laughed._

_"Yes, Miss Rose, yes.  Your wand."_

I was brought back to the present when a strange feeling suddenly overtook me.

It felt like I was lifted forcefully straight up in the air and plopped straight back down on my feet. In shock, my eyes flew open, but what I saw didn't make sense.

The air in front of me was all rippling and transparent in places, the background of my room blended in with... green trees of a forest I recognized and bright, early morning sunlight. Then it was mum's panicked face forming words I could not hear and... dark, stained canvas and dirty, bound bodies.

"Rose?"

My name filtered into my awareness languidly, sounding almost as if I was underwater, or far away. I was having trouble concentrating, unsure what it was that I should be seeing.

"Rose!" came mum's cry again, this time more panicked and then everything from my room, where I somehow knew I really was, faded away.

_I was fighting back, screaming and kicking, unable to cast a spell as my arms were pinned to the ground underneath me. I thrashed at the heavy body on mine but was unable to move him – I knew it was a him – as he was so much heavier than me. He smelled awful, like fetid meat and sweaty, unwashed skin. Faintly, I smelled blood, and my terror flared in my chest, making it even more difficult to breathe. I was then flipped over as two more men joined the first. I didn't get a good look at their faces, other than they looked like homeless barbarians, all uncombed, dirty long hair and grimy, tattered clothes before I was cuffed upside my head, knocking temple on a sharp rock._

_Momentarily, I was stunned, but my adrenaline had kicked in full force and I raised my arm to Stun the nearest, but before the first syllable had passed my lips, my wand was ripped out of my hand and thrown away somewhere behind me._

_"You won't be needing that anymore cupcake," ground out a horrible voice in my ear, chuckling sinisterly. It sent goose bumps of revulsion sweeping over my entire flesh._

_Before I could react in any way, a sharp blow hit the top of my skull and everything was dark._

_... and then it wasn't._

_I was bound tightly with rope around my wrists, ankles and chest. My entire body ached and throbbed with pain. I tried to open my eyes further but my right one seemed unable to. Groaning, I squinted in the darkness and saw many other people, bound as I was, around me._

_We were all laying on hard dirt inside what looked like a tent. Its canvas was stained with something dark, and I quickly squashed my eyes shut again to block out what I thought – knew – it was. My breathing was heavy now, and I squirmed in my bounds, ignoring the pain in my panic._

_Suddenly, a dark, unwashed face squirmed into my field of vision, her eyes wild with panic as well. Soon, I found out, that it wasn't the same kind of panic as mine._

_Her panic was that mine would bring the tents occupants pain and punishment for struggling._

_Seeing who I was a few moments later, only made her panic more._

_"Please, please be quiet! They'll come back! I can't endure it any more – I can't!"_

_The wild fear in her eyes, spoke volumes, more than her scratchy voice could ever do._

_It was too late, though, as loud footsteps approached from outside. I felt all the occupants of the tent tense in fear in their ropes as the tent flap opened and a jet of deep yellow light was cast upon the woman in front of me._

_She screamed and twisted in agony, over and over as the incantation was cried._

_"Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"_

_I lay there, staring into her eyes whenever they opened, trying to give her strength. I could do nothing else._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for all the kudos and reads! I appreciate it so much!


	7. five: end of your comfort zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry all that this took so long to update. my life literally imploded. enjoy!

FIVE: end of your comfort zone

* * *

  _"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone."_

_\- Neale Donald Walsch_

* * *

  _(Saturday, July 27th, 2024 – 5:40pm)_ \- **ROSE**

* * *

 

I woke slowly, feeling as though my whole body was lead. I blinked groggily, once, twice, before groaning as I tried to sit up. The motion sent my vision all spirally and I quickly lay back down.

"Mum! Dad! Healer Malfoy! She's awake!"

Dimly as I began to blink again – trying to clear my cotton-filled head – I saw Hugo jump up from the armchair that was supposed to be in the living room but instead was next to my bed, and run out of my room, calling for them as he went.

In a flash, my room was suddenly extremely crowded.

Mum and Dad were at my side first, both their expressions haggard and frightened, but relief beginning to wash most of the present fear away.

"Rosie?" came Dad's voice; the hysteria I had heard before in his voice, now hugely magnified, and very obvious in his and Mum's faces. "What happened?"

"Yes, Miss Weasley. Do you –"

I cut off Healer Malfoy's question, suddenly remembering what I remembered.

"I had a flashback," I quickly spat out; it felt like this notion shouldn't be held in any longer. It was important.

Mum, Dad and Healer Malfoy gasped, and he pushed his way forward, conjuring a pad of parchment and a Self-Inking Quill.

"I need you to tell me in explicit detail, Miss Weasley. Leave nothing out. This is extremely vital."

I nodded, sitting up slightly. I opened my mouth to tell him – the attack, the tent, the Unforgiveable Curse... but I found that when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

Seeing my distress, Mum put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Its okay, Rose. Take your time. I know it's going to be hard, but we need to know, so we can catch the person who had you. Did... did you remember who it was?"

I shook my head. "No, I didn't. I remembered the attack and something sometime after." I took a big breath and retold everything that happened in as vivid detail as I could. It wasn't hard; now that I remembered... it wasn't something you could forget.

Healer Malfoy wrote everything down as I said, and when I was done, both Mum and Dad looked horrified. Hugo stood in my doorway, his face more like stone than ever.

"I don't think I want to remember anything else... that was horrible enough..." I whispered, my voice cracking at the end.

Immediately, Mum grabbed me in a tight hug, tears welling over in her eyes.

"Mr. Weasley," said Healer Malfoy. "C-"

"Ron."

There was a pause. Mum untangled herself from me and looked at Dad with a strange look on her face.

"Excuse me?" said Healer Malfoy, sounding a little choked.

"All these years, you've called me Weasley, and as adults, you've just added the proper Mr. before it. You've healed my daughter as best that can be, and you've shown us no animosity after everything that's happened between us. I'd like it if you'd just call me Ron."

Healer Malfoy looked taken aback, but that was nothing to what Mum's reaction was.

"Ron!" she cried, launching herself at him and wrapping her arms about his neck, now completely sobbing.

I was gobsmacked as well, and faintly over Mum's happy tears (I think...) I heard Hugo give a faint chuckle from the doorway.

Healer Malfoy gently cleared his throat, causing Mum to pull away from Dad and quickly sit back down on the edge of my bed, her face flushing.

"Yeah. We're at that point now, aren't we?" he chuckled. "I'd like you to call me Draco, then. 'Tis only fair."

And then something happened I'm sure no one thought they'd ever see: Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley shook hands with a smile.

Then, he pulled out his wand.

"I'm going to make a copy of this, Draco, so the Aurors can try and figure out who the people Rose could describe are."

He tapped his wand on the parchment Healer Malfoy had written my account down on and stuck the copied parchment in his robe pocket.

"I have to head to the Ministry. Will you be alright here Hermione?" Dad asked.

She nodded.

"Of course. Hugo still has some cleaning to do I'm sure," she said, throwing him a look to which he groaned. She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Be safe."

"And I should head back to St. Mungo's to file this report," said Healer Malfoy. "But first, here," he pulled out his wand and conjured three flasks of bright colored potion: one purple, one dark orange, and the other neon yellow.

"The yellow is –" Healer Malfoy began to say, but I already knew.

"A medium-strength Revitalize Potion and the purple is the Potion for Dreamless Sleep. If I'm not mistaken – the orange the new Ache-Eraser Potion. I read about it in Potion-Brewers Monthly before I... went missing."

Everyone looked at me like I grew a second head.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," Healer Malfoy said a moment later, still looking at me strange. "I presume you know what order to take them in?"

"Sure. A little Ache Eraser now before I take the Dreamless Sleep potion and the rest as needed. The Revitalize is for any after-effects of my fainting and if I have any weak spells in the next few days."

Everyone still looked astounded, except for Hugo.

"I don't know why you're so shocked, Mum and Dad," he said from his spot in the doorway. They all turned to him. "You saw Rose's O.W.L. results. Straight O's in everything. Ask Al or Adela about her homework and test marks. Mr. Malfoy, you can even ask Scorpius if you're curious. She never gets less than 100/100."

"Hugo, really I –" I said, trying to talk over him. I really don't like it when people talk about me like I'm some kind of genius or something. It's embarrassing.

"Cut it out. Seriously. You're beyond brilliant," he said, speaking right over my interruption. "I personally don't know why you didn't get Sorted into Ravenclaw, sis. You have more brains than any of them."

Then, he turned around and left, calling behind him,

"I'm going to start on my room. Don't faint again Rosie."

Everyone was silent again, as they all turned to look back at me.

"Rose, is your brother telling the truth?" Dad asked, his voice soft.

"I – uh, well..." I mumbled, avoiding their eyes.

"Rose!"

"Oh fine! Yes!" I cried. "He's telling the truth! Merlin! What's the big deal?"

They were all silent, still. It was driving me mad!

"If none of you are going to say anything, then go do what you were all planning before Hugo got all informative! I'm going to take my potions! Out!"

Exchanging looks, they all got up slowly and headed out of my room, Mum closing the door behind her. Listening hard, I heard no footsteps make their way away from my door. Grabbing my wand, I cast a non-verbal Silencing Spell and jumped out of bed – stumbling a bit as I was still kind of dizzy – but made my way over to the door.

"Accio Extendable Ears!" I whispered, and the flesh-colored string flew into my outstretched hand – from under my bed of all places! – and I quickly set it under the door and put it to my ear.

"-the Hogwarts Archives. McGonagall owes me a favor after the Scamander-Incident at last year's October Hogsmeade trip." I heard Mum's voice say.

"I'll see if I can speak to the Minister about setting me up a Cone Meeting with one of the Unspeakables later this week."

"I'll be able to help you with that Draco," Dad said. "Kingsley owes me a favor after those Pixies got loose in his office."

"Mrs. Weasley-" came Healer Malfoy's voice next, but I knew what would happen as soon as the "Missus," came out of his mouth.

"Draco, you can certainly call me, Hermione," interrupted Mum with a teasingly scolding tone.

"Okay... Hermione, can you see if the Board of Directors will be willing to administer a Merlin Exam if the Cone Meeting goes well?"

"Of course. Padma Patil is a Director if I remember correctly and I'm sure she'll be glad to help. She'd also be a big influence with the other Board Members. She was a Ravenclaw, if you recall," Mum replied.

"Of course, Hermione. Harry and I went to the Yule Ball with the Patil sisters, remember? But uh, let's hope she's still not angry with me about that..."

"Oh, Ronald. I'm sure Padma isn't still mad you were a right prat that night. I'm not am I?" Mum said.

"Right. You did marry me after all..."

"Okay," Healer Malfoy quickly said. "I have to head back to St. Mungo's. I'll get right on setting up the Cone Meeting. Can I use your Floo?"

"Of course," Dad said, and then I heard all three sets of footsteps make their way downstairs.

Completely confused, I sank back from the doorway, pulling the Extendable Ears from my own.

What was such the big deal about my grades? So I'm smart! A lot of other people are too, and I can't really take credit; I just inherited it from Mum...

I stood up and wandered over to my bed, sitting down on the edge.

I tried not to fret about this new - albeit confusing - information, so I decided to sleep. Grabbing the potions, I took them quickly and laid back down to rest.

I awoke a few hours later, just as it was getting dark, to a loud flutter of wings as Eri landed on my windowsill, a letter in her beak. Curious, I reached over and took it from her, my other hand automatically going to the box of owl treats I kept in my bedside table drawer. Pulling them out, I paused.

"Eri, these are probably out of date... I'll give you some extra when I get new ones okay?" I said, petting the feathers on her head. Greedy bird she was, she gave a baleful hoot and looked at me pointedly.

"Oh, alright. I'll go get you something from the kitchen," I sighed, standing up, the letter still in my hand.

Erimentha gave an appreciative call in response and fluttered over on top of her cage, her favorite spot. Shaking my head, I left my room and headed past Hugo's and down to the kitchen. It was only once I reached the doorway that I realized we wouldn't have any food, if everyone hadn't been here in months.

"Mum!" I called, looking through the cupboards, hoping to find something. "What do we have to eat?"

"Oh goodness... Uh, not really anything, Rose," Mum replied, walking into the kitchen from the cloak room. In her hands she held a pair of Dad's boots, looking like they were caked in 6 month old mud, which knowing Dad, they probably were.

"Scourgify," she said, siphoning off the mud into the kitchen sink. "I'll owl your father to bring something home for dinner... goodness, though I have no idea how long he'll be... Evanesco." Lazily, she Vanished the mud, and Banished the now-mud-free boots back to cloak room.

"If you and Hugo are hungry, I can head out and go shopping. It shouldn't take me too long to get a list together..."

"Mum, don't bother with a list," I said. "We need almost everything. Just go and stock up, the kitchen is empty," to emphasize my point, I flicked my wand at the cupboards and they opened, revealing their mostly bare insides.

Mum was silent for a moment, staring at my wand.

"Mum?" I asked, trying to get her attention.

"What spell did you just use?" she immediately asked, now looking at me.

"Aperiarmarium," I replied, flicking my wand at the cupboards behind her, which also opened.

"And you used it non-verbally..."

"Yes... why? I'm 17 Mum, I'm an adult. I can use magic at home now."

"I know that," she replied, her voice strange again, like before in my room after Hugo spoke about my school-marks. "Close them?"

Rolling my eyes, I twirled my wand quickly in the air above my head and all open cupboards clicked shut.

Eyes wide now, Mum opened her mouth, but I knew what she was going to ask,

"Omnes viciniacra," I said.

She nodded, silent.

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, can you make sure you pick up some owl treats? Eri's are old."

"Yeah, Mug and Pig's too," she said, seeming to have snapped out of whatever she was in. Pig was short for Pigwidgeon, our family owl – he's so tiny! Goodness! – and Mug, Hugo's owl which is short for... well, nothing. Hugo just named him Mug. Poor bird... "I'm going to refresh our potion cupboard as well. More than a few things have probably expired."

"'kay," I said, opening a cupboard with my wand and Summoning a glass from inside, then closing it like before. "Aguamenti," I said, pointing my wand over the glass, filling it with water. Then, I stuck my wand inside the water, and swirled it around and said, "Saporvorto curbisuco."

Instantly, the water turned a rich orange color, smoking slightly. Taking out my wand, I tapped the rim of the glass saying, "Praestrictus," and the glass of transfigured water was now iced pumpkin juice.

Happily, I took a sip.

"Perfect," I said, and wordlessly Conjured a bendy straw, sticking it in.

It was only as I turned around to grab my letter off the counter by the fridge, did I see Mum was standing in the doorway, staring at me like she had never seen me before.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" I cried. "Is everyone going to give me that look whenever I use magic now?"

"No," Mum said, but her voice was weak. "I'm going to go shopping. Tell Hugo I'll be back in a few hours. You'll be okay here, Rose?"

"Of course, Mum." I said.

Concern laced her face now. "Maybe I should ask Ginny to stay with you guys..."

"We're really okay Mum, but if it makes you feel better, go ahead."

I knew she was going to be like this whenever she left my side. I wasn't eight years old! I could take care of myself. But I understood. I was kidnapped and turned into a werewolf. Possibly tortured. She had to be a worrying mother-hen for a while.

"Yeah. I'll pop by Grimmauld Place before heading to London," she mumbled. Quickly, she shuffled back into the kitchen and planted a kiss on my head, hugging me tight before heading out the kitchen and the front door with an audible click.

A moment later, Hugo could be heard stomping down the stairs.

"Good, she's gone," he sighed, heading straight to the jar of Floo Powder we kept on the counter by the kitchen door.

"Oh no you don't!" I cried, wordlessly Summoning the jar to me before he could grab some.

"Come on Rosie!" he cried. "Not fair!"

"Don't call me Rosie." I ground out. "Mum and Dad get a leniency period. You do not. Especially after that whole, 'Rose is a bloody genius' thing you pulled. What the hell? Now Mum looks at me like I'm something she's never seen before whenever I do any magic! And they were talking about something called a Cone Meeting and a Merlin Exam outside my door – "

"Yeah, I know. You're not the only one with a pair of Extendable Ears, Rose," he said, walking over to the fridge and opening it, only to shut it again and move to the cupboards.

"There's nothing there either," I said.

"Good Merlin! But I'm hungry!"

Rolling my eyes, I opened my mouth to tell him that's where Mum went, to get food, but another voice answered for me,

"Good thing I brought some Cauldron Cakes to tide you over, huh?"

"Aunt Ginny!" Hugo cried, rushing to her and grabbing the package from her hands and ripping it open. "You're a saint!"

She only smirked as I stared at the pig in horror.

"Merlin Hugo, save some for Rose!"

I spun at the voice, a wide grin spreading across my face.

"Adela!"

"Hey girl!"

I jumped up and hugged her tight, squealing with joy and surprise.

"Girl, has Eri forgotten where I live or have all your quills mysteriously broken?" she demanded with a wry smile, putting her hands on her hips. "I've been feeling famously neglected!"

"I'm sorry, El! I think she has, actually. And no, my quills are fine, thanks for asking. It's the strangest thing though: all my inkwells dried up overnight!"

She snorted and we burst out laughing.

"How did you get here?" I asked after we calmed down enough.

"I figured you'd want a friend to keep you company today, Rose," said Aunt Ginny from the counter, where she was unloading a few more goodies that Hugo immediately took hostage.

"Thanks Aunt Gin," I said, sincerely meaning it, giving her a smile, which she returned.

"What's this?"

I turned at Adela's question and saw her at the counter where the letter was (still) sitting and (still) unopened.

"I got that a few minutes ago from Eri. I haven't opened it yet."

"Who's it from?" Hugo asked, except it sounded more like, "Zoose'eat rum?" with his mouth full of custard-filled Cauldron Cakes.

"Dunno," I said. "I didn't check. Eri wanted some owl treats, but we don't have any that are good."

She turned it over, looking at the handwriting, "I don't recognize the writing, and this is some fancy envelope parchment." She held it up to her ear and gently shook it. "It's heavy and I hear something inside."

Instantly, it zoomed from her hand. I turned and saw Aunt Ginny with her wand pointed at Adela and the envelope now in her hands.

"Aunt Ginny? What –" I asked, confused.

"I'm certainly not taking any chances, Rose. If you don't know who this is from and there's something inside..."

"Aunt Ginny, Eri – my owl – went and got this for me herself, on her own whim. You don't know – "

"That's right. We don't know. There's a few other things we don't know either, Rose, that are just – if not more –dangerous. And Erimentha could have been Summoned to get this to you."

"That's really Dark Magic, Mrs. Potter," Adela said, her voice absent of her snark. She sounded completely serious; I could count on one hand – and still have a few fingers left over – the amount of times I have ever seen Adela McKinnon be completely serious. "To affect an owl."

"I know, Adela. That's why we have to be sure, Rose. Especially after everything that's happened to you," Aunt Ginny said.

"I really don't-" I began to protest, but Hugo – without the Cauldron Cake accent – spoke over me.

"Humor us Rose."

I sighed.

"Fine. Whatever."

She took the pot of Floo Powder from next to me on the island counter and headed into the fireplace in the living room. We all followed. She pointed her wand at the hearth and said,

"Incendio," starting the fire and throwing a handful of the emerald green powder into the flames. Then casting a non-verbal charm on the now-green flames, she stuck her head into the fire.

We waited a few moments, unable to hear or see who she was talking to, before she pulled her head out and stepped back from the fireplace.

"Who-" I began to ask, but a moment later there was a woosh! and out of the flames stepped my Uncle Harry.

"Let me see Gin," he said, holding out his hand for the letter. Gingerly she handed it to him and he turned it over in his hands, looking at it closely.

Suddenly, he turned to me, holding it out for me to take.

"What? That's it?" I asked, shocked as I took it from him.

"Harry? What-" Aunt Ginny began to ask, but he spoke.

"I know who this is from. It's nothing Dark, Rose, though you all did the right thing by being suspicious."

"Okay..." I said, gobsmacked.

"Go ahead and open it, Rose," Uncle Harry said. "Send Eri if you have any questions, or just ask your Mum. She'll know all about it. I have to head back to the Ministry though and help your father. We'll both be back late tonight," He said the last part to both Aunt Ginny and me.

"Alright," she said. "When Hermione get's back I'll ask her if she doesn't mind a bit of company tonight. I certainly don't feel like cooking by myself for the kids so I'll just have them round here, yeah?"

"Sounds good," Uncle Harry said, giving her a quick kiss. "See you all soon I imagine, Rose, Hugo. And I'm sure you'll be there too, Miss McKinnon," he said.

Adela rolled her eyes. "You've known me since I was eleven Mr. Potter. You can call me Adela. I feel like you're a professor when you call me that," she visibly shuddered.

He chuckled. "I'll break the polite habit someday. Maybe by Lily's wedding, huh?" and chuckling, he stepped back into the fire, calling,

"Auror Headquarters, Ministry of Magic!"

"Alright then," Aunt Ginny said. "Rose, could I borrow Eri, then? I haven't been assaulted by Pigwidgeon yet, like he always does when I come to visit, so I expect he's out sleeping with Mug. I'll send a note to James, Al and Lily to tell them to get over here. You don't mind, right?"

"Nope, that's fine. I haven't seen them in a while."

"Perfect," she smiled.

"I'll be right back then with Eri, some parchment and a quill. Come on Adela," I said, heading out of the kitchen and up to my room.

Once there, Adela let out a low whistle. "Jeez. Your room is dusty! Haven't you had a chance to clean yet? You've been home almost a week!"

"What are-" I began, but thankfully, I stopped myself.

She doesn't know. She doesn't know I'm a werewolf. She thought I went home the day after she had last visited me. That's why she said about not contacting her... oh Merlin...

She looked at me strange.

"Sorry. Wow. It just hasn't seemed like that long I guess. I've been busy helping the family with the rest of the house. Didn't really worry too much about being thorough here, as I'm just going back to Hogwarts in a month's time," I quickly lied.

"You're so weird," She laughed. "You're of age! You can use one of your super-duper do-all spells! Duh!"

"Duh!" I laughed, too, and to placate her, I raised my wand swept my wand across the expanse of my room, casting a non-verbal cleaning and tidying spell. Within moments, my room was clean and cheerful and bright.

"Now isn't that better?" she said sardonically.

I threw a pillow at her.

Wordlessly, I Summoned a quill, inkwell and parchment from my desk and held out my arm to Eri.

"Come on girl. Aunt Ginny's got a job for you,"

She hooted and glided over onto my arm and I quickly made my way back to the kitchen with Adela.

"Thanks, Rose," Aunt Ginny said, taking the parchment and things and writing a quick note and giving it to Eri. "Grimmauld Place. You know the drill, girl."

She took off with a resonating hoot of confirmation out the open kitchen window.

"You still haven't opened that Rose?"

"No, Hugo. I've been a bit busy!" I replied, but now broke open the envelope, pulling out a thick piece of parchment and then dumping what looked to be a dark colored marble into my hand. Instantly, upon touching my palm, it turned bright green.

"What the – "

"Oh brilliant!" Hugo cried and snatched it from my hand. "He got the prototype perfect then!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, a bit annoyed, but it was Aunt Ginny who answered.

"Your Uncle George was working on a new item for the shop, part of the old security collection that was highly popular back during the Second Wizarding War. It's been revamped, what with everything that happened to you. That, if I remember correctly, is an Authenta-Ball. It turns green upon contact with the correct recipient. It will turn red and burn the person with a mark they can't remove, if intercepted and opened by the wrong person and send a signal to the Auror office."

"Wow," I said.

"It's not something that Hogwarts students can buy. It's mostly Ministry-level, for important letters and such. Things that are private. If he's got it working and selling it, then he'll be making quite a few galleons off these."

"More than a few!" Hugo said gleefully. "Uncle George is going to be ten times richer than he already is, selling these!"

Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the parchment.

"What's it say, Rose? Who's it from?"

Stunned, I said,

"It's from McGonagall,"

* * *

  _...9:02pm_

* * *

 

_Miss Rose Weasley,_

_Foremost, I want to express my happiness of your safe return, and wish you a speedy recovery of anything that is left to heal._

_Secondly, this letter is in my duty as Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to inform you that for you to be eligible to attend your Seventh and Final Year at Hogwarts this September First, you must pass your Final Exams in all your scheduled classes. Regretfully, this is due to your absence before the end of the year._

_Because of your outstanding transcript and the late date, you will only be tested on what you had learned prior to your absence from school. If you pass you will be given tutoring by all your professors after hours on what you had missed at the end of last year, once you arrive back at school._

_The test is scheduled in two week's time, starting on Saturday, August 10th, 2024 and ending on Tuesday, August 12th, 2024. Thus, it will be three days of four to six tests each day, depending on the subject, for written and practical, each test being one hour in length total. Schedule is as follows:_

_Saturday, August 10th, 2024_

_Charms: 7:00am-8:30am – WRITTEN_

_8:35am-9:05am – PRACTICAL_

_History of Magic: 9:35am-11:05am – WRITTEN_

_Transfiguration: 12:05pm-1:35pm – WRITTEN_

_2:00pm-3:30pm – PRACTICAL_

_Sunday, August 11th, 2024_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts: 7:00am-8:30am – WRITTEN_

_8:35am-9:05am – PRACTICAL_

_Herbology: 9:30am-11:00am – WRITTEN_

_11:25am-12:55pm – PRACTICAL_

_Potions: 1:55pm-2:35pm – WRITTEN_

_2:40pm-4:10pm – PRACTICAL_

_Monday, August 12th, 2024_

_Ancient Runes: 7:00am-8:30am – WRITTEN_

_Arithmancy: 8:55am-10:25am – WRITTEN_

_Astronomy: 11:25am-1:55pm – WRITTEN_

_2:00pm-3:00pm – PRACTICAL_

_All tests will be given at the Ministry of Magic in London, Level 10 in the Wizengamot Audience room. A Ministry Official and your Professor will be administering the tests, both written and practical, and your written scores and practical performance will be sent to your professors for review and grading._

_If you have received the required marks on the exams, you will receive your normal, pre-start of term Hogwarts letter a week later like the rest of the student body._

_Wishing the rest of your summer and your test results well,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_P.S. I also wanted to clarify that your condition will be of no consequence to your attending. Professor DeVane will be more than willing to brew the Wolves Bane Potion and any missed work due to your condition will be treated with extended due dates._

_I am very sorry this happened to you, Miss Weasley. So very sorry indeed._

 

I read the contents of the letter out loud, omitting only the postscript.

"That is so bogus!" was the first thing Adela said. "You shouldn't have to take your final exams to attend your last year! You were bloody kidnapped for Merlin's sake! Jeez! Has McGonagall no bloody heart?"

"I'm sure she'd let Rose back in without a second thought," Aunt Ginny said, "but her hands are tied by the Ministry, the Board of Directors, Wizarding Law..."

"But she's Headmistress for Merlin's sake! She's bloody Minerva McGonagall!"

"El," I said, chuckling slightly at her distress. "It's-"

"And why the bloody hell are you laughing Rose! This is mad!"

Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps from the living room and then,

"Who's mad?" said James.

"Well, Rose for one," replied Albus, coming in behind him.

"Beside's her," James replied.

"Hugo. He's twice as mad as Rose is," said Lily, ever loyal.

"I don't know. That McKinnon bird could very well top them all in madness quota," Al smirked.

"Nah," said James. "The Weasley gene tops any other in crazy. It's a fact. Binns told me."

"Of come off it you three! Everyone knows the Potters are bloomin' nuts, the lot of them!"

I spun at this new voice and my throat closed up.

Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy.

I didn't ask Healer Malfoy what he decided, what he chose: to forget my lycanthropy... or not.

What did he choose?

WHAT DID HE CHOOSE?


End file.
